


The Mayor and the Assassin

by Papapaldi



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papapaldi/pseuds/Papapaldi
Summary: Mels is detained after another (spectacular) run-in with the law, waiting for her mother/best friend Amy to bail her out as usual. To her surprise, a stranger turns up instead – a mysterious (and beautiful) woman with an infuriating case of egomania.





	The Mayor and the Assassin

Mels was in a cell... again. And yes, maybe she had set off fireworks on top of a moving train. All those 6pm commuters deserved a show, it was a public service really. A girl had to go to such extremes to get her kicks around here: the country town of Leadworth was excruciatingly dull. Regardless of her inarguably noble intentions, Melody Pond (or Zucker, as she now went by) was sitting in a square metre cell on a swing out metal bench, admiring the colourful graffiti and trying to maintain an air of grizzled indifference. Soon her mother would be along to bail her out, again, and she would return home to a cacophonous scolding from Mr and Mrs perfect. It would go something along the lines of ‘grow up Mels’ or ‘you can’t keep doing this, we won’t always be there to get you out of it.’ She would play the snarky teenager, though the act was getting old, and despite the quality time she’d been able to spend with ol’mum and dad, she was beginning to grow impatient. Even Amy had long stopped believing in her raggedy man, despite Melody’s best attempt to keep her hope alive. Regardless, she knew he would come back eventually, and when he did she would be ready. She wouldn’t kill him straight away, she had decided that long ago, she couldn’t just kill the man that her entire life revolved around and not give him the courtesy of a polite greeting.

A sharp rap on the cell door shakes her thoughts away, as the door visor clangs open and a gruff voice says “right then, you’re free to go.” Mels rolls her eyes and slips on her leather jacket, putting on her best nonchalant, slightly amused look - the kind that would annoy Amy the most. As the cell door swing aside, however, an unfamiliar face is there to greet her. Surprise wipes that smug look right off Mels’ face. The guard seems not to notice, and he jangles his large key ring around clumsily as he sighs “no doubt we’ll see you here again soon Mels” and marches off down the hall.

“Who the hell are you?” Mels asks the woman who had supposedly bailed her out. She was short, yet carried an air of confidence that grated against her own. Mels could already tell that she wasn’t going to like her.

“Doesn’t really matter, I’m Me, and I’ve come to talk to you about the Doctor.” The woman smirks, brushing her long brown hair from her face. Mels can tell that she’s relishing in the former’s petrified confusion, and her eyes sparkle with malevolent ferocity as she turns to leave, indicating for Mels to follow.

“Hang on a second, I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re either one of his lackeys, or you’re from the church, and I don’t fancy spending time with either option.”

She sighs, as if growing impatient. “Luckily for you, I’m neither.”

“Neither? This is war, there are only two sides.”

“Right, I’d almost forgotten the whole little narrative the church has woven for itself. Pitiful, really.” Mels hates the way this woman talks, with eyes narrowed and lips upturned. She doesn’t seem to pay others the courtesy of looking into their eyes, and holds herself as if she’s above such trivial things. It doesn’t look good on her, it just seems like she’s trying too hard.

“What do you mean?”

She sniggers, which makes Mels want to punch her lights out, despite the fact that they were walking through a police station. “I mean the church of the silence have written themselves out to be the Doctor’s greatest foe, a force locked in endless battle with the most dangerous man in the universe and yet” her voice softens and grows cold “- they are nothing but a persistent flea on the back of a monolith. He will, inevitably, swat them away and endure, as he always does.”

“That’s not true,” Mels exclaims “you don’t even know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what they’re capable of, what I’m capable of. I’m the psychopath who’s going to kill the Doctor, and nobody,” she pauses “not even myself – can stop that from happening.” She looked away from the other woman, embarrassed. She’d gone and spilled out her feelings to a stranger with unknown intentions. It’d been worrying her though, especially after hearing the way Amy talked about her raggedy man - he didn’t sound like a soldier or a monster. He sounded like a good man. Mels liked to kid herself, pretend that she couldn’t care less about killing, be they good bad or undecided. But she did. It was just another thing that separated her from being normal, from being free.

“Well you’ll see about that,” the stranger smirks as they pass the reception desk, “in time.”  
Bitch, Mels thinks to herself she enters out into the bitter night air - yet, she follows all the same. The streets of Leadworth were silent at night, and nigh on silent during the day as well. The small town was home to an astonishing population of the elderly, consisting of a small school, a doctor’s office with two general practitioners, a terrible cafe, a tiny post office, and a shop that sold everything from mittens to melons. It was quite possibly the worst sort of place for a girl like her, one who lived on the high between daring escapades and impulsivities, who craved bright lights and dark corners and the centre of rough crowds. The problem was, she couldn’t leave. It had taken her so long to find her parents again after New York, albeit at a much younger age. She wasn’t ready to let them go, that and the fact that sticking with Amy was her best chance of finding - and killing, possibly after snogging - the Doctor.

“Where’s Amy?” Mels asks, now dwelling on the subject of her mother. She was invariably the one who came down to the police station to pick her up, disapproving expression and all.

The other woman looks up, her face eclipsed in an orange glow of a passing streetlamp. “Perhaps your dear mother has gotten sick of picking up after you.”

Mel’s hearts sink. It took her so long to find her parents, not even the church could track them down. There was no way this woman could know the truth about her best friend. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s my business to know” – she shrugs nonchalantly – “I’m Me.”

“Well you’re a stuck up bitch.” Mels retorts, eye brow raised at the sheer narcissistic nerve of this girl.

“Takes one to know one.”

“Granted,” she admits. After a few moments of silence, she turns to the woman again, wondering where all this is going. “Look, are you going to tell me what you want with me or are you just going to keep on smirking like that?”

She sighs, as if preparing to condense a very complicated story into a digestible sentence. Mels knew that feeling all too well. “For a long time, I’ve tasked myself with cleaning up the mess that the Doctor leaves behind here on earth and you”– she indicated Mels patchwork leather and fishnet attire – “you’re quite the mess.”

“Well, I’m also the one who’s going to put you out of business.” She grinned, shrugging as if to say ‘sorry about that – but not really.’ “He’s not going to be around much longer, and you won’t have anything to clean up.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that actually, retirement sounds like a lovely prospect.” She replies, grinning right back.

Mels chuckles and looks away. “Aren’t you a bit young for retirement?” she asks.

“Trust me, I’m older than I look.”

“Story of my life.”

“It really isn’t, trust me; you don’t know the half of it.” The two girls fell into step, neither of them walking anywhere in particular. They were nearing the edge of Leadworth proper – just a few old-timey pubs remained (far too many for a town so small), letting loose the odd staggering drunk onto the stony streets. Mels wasn’t sure which one of them was leading the other – she certainly wasn’t heading anywhere in particular – she wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from her dear old parents. They keep walking until they reach the end of the street – one of many that lead off from the central roundabout decorated with flowerbeds and duck-less ponds. They came to a stop in front of a waist-high lopsided stone wall that ringed the pavement on the outskirts of town. Beyond it – a large, ill-maintained hedge towers upwards beneath a dark sky clouded in cold and Leadworth brand boredom. Deep blue beckoned tantalisingly beyond the clouds, teasing morning.

“So,” Mels began, turning to face the mysterious woman, “if you don’t want to stop me from killing the Doctor, what do you want?”

“I want to help you,” she replies, though she doesn’t return the favour of eye-contact, instead staring up into the fathomless sky. “You, and everyone else he’s left behind in the Doctor’s destructive wake. Look at yourself melody –“ she said, seeming to scan her up and down – judging every detail, from ripped jeans, the white, booze-stained tank top and scuffed leather jacket– “you need help. Sooner or later you’re going to go too far and you’re going to get yourself locked up - whether that be here on earth, or on some intergalactic prison. Have you ever thought of what you’ll do after you accomplish your mission?” Now, finally, she looks Mels in the eyes. They are blue and piercing, burning with a quiet compassion that Mels couldn’t have imagined possible from her just a few minutes earlier. She was caught off guard by someone who seemed to care, more than she had any right to. It was terrifying.

Mels swallows her feelings and turns away, twisting her face into a rebellious glaze. “Of course I haven’t, I was engineered for a singular purpose. Once that’s fulfilled, I don’t expect the church to allow me to go on living being as dangerous as I am.” She had been taught to hate before she learned to talk, had swung a blade and shot a gun before she could walk. She had been raised and manufactured like a one-use, disposable tool. Once the job was done, she had nothing left. She turns back to the other woman and flashes her a winning smile – a mask. “I’ll run, of course, I’m good at running.”

“But you’ll get caught, one way or another.” She says, giving Mels a meaningful, serious look.

Mels clears her throat. “It’s not something I like to dwell on. I’m a girl who likes to live in the moment.”

“Clearly.” Mels once again felt the woman eyeing her smudged eye-liner, bruised knuckles, and fizzled dark hair. “I can help you, Melody.” She seems genuine.

“Mels,” she corrects her.

“Mels,” she acknowledged. “There’s a place down in London, a safe place for anything and everything alien or otherwise out of place in this world’s perfect and wholly ignorant self image.”

“So you came to me to advertise your estate of misfits united, you going to give me your business card too?” Mels chuckles, to lighten the mood more than anything. The other woman persists.

“Think about it. It’s a place hidden from everyone, even the Doctor. Rest assured, the silence would never find you.”

Could such a place really exist? A place where she could escape from, not only her fate of disposal, but her purpose altogether. “Are you sure?” She fails to keep desperation out of her voice.

“Would I have come to you if I wasn’t?” she smiled, looking up at Mels. For once, that smirk didn’t seem so egotistical, it seemed kind.

“Trust isn’t exactly one of my strong suits.”

“Nor mine, but you have to learn someday. I’m not asking you to trust anyone completely – actually, that’s probably the worst thing you could ever do – but at least have a little faith.”

“Was that a joke, faith? Really?” Mels asks, part sarcastic, part bewildered. “Isn’t it faith that’s putting me through all this?”

“Bad choice, huh?” she asks, “sorry.” She shrugs, pivoting on her feet to face the quiet street they had arrived through. “The message stands, and so does the offer,” she says, seeming to address the street itself in her stoic tone. “You’ll find me in London, if you look hard enough. The Silence have engineered your biology, along with the pre-existing superior perceptions granted by the time vortex and part Timelord physiology – I doubt you’ll have trouble finding it once you set your mind to it.”

“So you’re giving me scavenger hunt,” Mels scoffs, “a chance to prove myself. You’re like the annoying know-it-all wizard from a storybook, except –“ she adds, glancing down at the woman, her dark hair twisted into an intricate style, her delicate, pale face standing stark against the night – “maybe a little prettier.”

“I’ll take that; I like to think I’m wise. If you need somewhere to hide, come find me.” She opens the collar of her jacket slightly, revealing a dark swirl spreading across her skin like wet ink on paper. “Just ask for the mayor.” With that, the woman’s form begins to twist into dark smoke, tendrils of ink snaking up her neck. Her body begins to dissipate as the ink veers around the curve of her jaw, centring on her eyes like tears running backwards. As they reach them, her eyes cloud to black like pools of water dropped with ink. That haunting glare is the last thing to fade as the woman disappears on the wind.

“Right then,” Mels mutters to herself in disbelief. She collected herself quickly, and started down the street again, heading nowhere-in-particular while mulling over the strange woman’s offer in her mind.

 

_“Melody, my Melody. One day, you’re going to meet a man, the most amazing man in the universe - save your old dad of course.”_

_“Who is he?” asked the little girl, who sat huddled under her white duvet, her knees tucked up under her chin._

_“He’s called the Doctor,” her mother said, as she stroked her daughter’s long hair gently. Melody was still getting used to being touched like that – with love._

_“But –“_

_“I know, darling,” her mother interrupted, “they’ve put all sorts of terrible things inside your head, but none of it’s true.” Amy Williams’ hair had long since faded from bright red to a silvery grey. Her round, pale face now lined with the marks of a life long lived. She looked old enough to be the grandmother of the child on the bed. “He’s a good man, Melody, and you’re a good girl” – she adds, smiling at her daughter and her wide-eyed, incredulous expression – “no matter what you might think, you are good. Always remember that.”_

_“Why do you sound sad? Are you saying goodbye?” Melody had been apprehensive when Mr and Mrs Williams had turned up at the Graystark Hall Orphanage almost six months ago. She had been sent her by Madame Kovarian to await the complex AI exoskeleton (in the handy form of a NASA spacesuit) to hold her and direct her efforts towards the Doctor’s demise. But she was_ alone, _and afraid, and her parents had come for her mere hours after her arrival. Amy had shown her photographs of herself when she was young, matching it with the one treasured by Melody of her mother holding her as a baby. She had always wondered what it was like the have parents, and now she finally did – yet her mother seemed to be saying goodbye._

_“They’re going to come back for you soon, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”_

_“No –“_

_“Shh Melody, I promise you, no matter how scared you are, everything is going to turn out okay. I’ve seen it.” Thunder rumbles outside the tiny window, and the wind rattles the old window pane with such force that Melody thinks it could break. “This is our last night together, and I’m sorry. Your father should be home from the hospital soon, but we have to say goodbye.” Melody’s brown eyes well with tears as she hugs her knees closer to her chest. “It’s okay baby, you’ll see us again – you have a life full of adventure waiting for you out there. And when you’re out there, in the big wide universe, know that you are loved – by so many and so much – and by no one more than me.” Amy leans forwards and plants a gentle kiss on her daughter’s forehead, knowing that – though it was the end for herself – for Melody, this was the just the beginning._


End file.
